


unrivaled, unraveled

by forbiddenarchives



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Canon Disabled Character, Established Relationship, Height Differences, M/M, Mirror Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, background Silverflinthamilton, inappropriate sex in forbidden places, thomas hamilton is a menace, thomas hamilton is also very soft, tipsy sex, with a surprise cameo by john silver's self-worth issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24770341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbiddenarchives/pseuds/forbiddenarchives
Summary: When he ruts into the contact the friction is delicious, the long line of Thomas’ body against his, his fingers trailing down his sides.And yet.“Someone’s going to walk in on us,” Silver hisses. He can’t believe he has to be the voice of reason here. “Do you have any idea what’s going to happen then?”(Or, Thomas gets wine drunk at the local fair, and mischief ensues.)
Relationships: Thomas Hamilton/John Silver
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	unrivaled, unraveled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Apfelessig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apfelessig/gifts).



> Written for [a prompt](https://riotsofbloom.tumblr.com/post/617772943384117248/sex-scenes-id-like-to-read-more-off) by enchi-elm on tumblr, who requested Silver/Thomas and tipsy sex and inappropriate sex in forbidden places. I hope this is to your liking!
> 
> Beta-read by the wonderful lupismaris and set loosely within my summer's end verse, where Flint, Thomas and Silver work things out and live together after the end of the show. But you don't need to have read that in order to understand what's going on here. 
> 
> **A note on consent:** There is alcohol involved here, but neither of them is actually drunk. Consent is clearly discussed and given. Please be careful and mind the tags if this is a sensitive topic to you.

“I can’t believe that worked!” Thomas sways and bumps into Silver, who quickly leans against a half-empty food cart to keep his balance.

It’s a warm evening in early June. The two of them are on their way home, but the market square is still thronged with people, their animated faces glowing in the evening sun. The summer fair has come to town, and the smell of cooked food and strong ale permeates the air. In a large tent off to the side some of the more adventurous townsfolk are dancing. The sound of fiddles, voices and laughter rings out over the square. Tonight, those who are not yet betrothed set out to find a partner, and those who have been wed for years often find a new spark in their beloved’s eyes.

Silver raises his eyebrows at Thomas, pushing away from the food cart. He’s grateful that Thomas isn’t overly careful with him, but still: you do not want to rely on a one-legged man to keep you upright when you stumble—especially if said man has also had a drink.

Thomas rights himself, fixing his waistcoat. “No, I mean it. Thank you.”

Silver shrugs, but his eyes beam Thomas’ excitement back at him. “Oh, but that was actually enjoyable. I liked the challenge.”

They are almost at the edge of the fair, making their way past wine merchants and people selling honeyed sweets and ale. James has taken his leave a couple of hours earlier, feigning a headache—he never is the most sociable at these sort of occasions.

Meanwhile, Thomas and Silver have spent the better part of the last hour with George Preston, an influential member of the town’s assembly and staunch Calvinist. After Silver skillfully trapped him in his own argument, Preston finally agreed to demand an increase in funding for the town’s most in-need schools. It’s a goal Thomas has been working towards for the better part of the past year, without much success. But Preston clearly failed to account for Silver.

As it turns out, he and Thomas are near unbeatable in combination, forming a stellar double act capable of arguing even the most stubborn colonial officials into the ground. With his earnest forwardness and righteous indignation, Thomas sets the goalposts, and when their opponent realizes how unreachable they are and tries to forfeit the race, Silver uses his skills of persuasion and charm to reel them back in and keep them on course. He can easily argue any point regardless of his own personal feelings on the matter, pretending to be on the other person’s side. In reality, he is advancing his own agenda, which might not be readily apparent.

Together, with Thomas so uncomfortable and Silver so pleasant to engage with, no one quite realizes they’ve been had until it’s far, far too late. Which is what happened to Preston, who will hopefully be able to remember his promises in the morning.

Thomas holds on tightly to Silver’s arm, enthusing about the new possibilities for the town’s children. His enthusiasm is compounded by their recent encounter with a local wine seller, who they came across just before they ran into Preston. The wine seller happened to have a rare red on offer, very much like one Thomas used to have back in London, a long time ago. Something about the grape variety, and the region in which they were grown. It was all poncy bullshit as far as Silver was concerned, but he enjoyed seeing Thomas so happy. The first cup had made him wistful, almost sad. The second one had picked him back up, and by the third he was elated, strong-arming his companion into trying the drink as well. Silver had pulled him away after that, but not without placing a generous order to be delivered to their house at the next opportunity.

The argument with Preston has sobered him up a little, but Thomas’ face is still flushed when he pulls on Silver’s sleeve.

“This way,” he says, nodding towards a smaller tent that had contained a small theater troupe earlier in the day. Now it’s deserted, the traveling actors no doubt taking advantage of the other attractions of the day.

“I don’t think anyone’s still here,” Silver says, following Thomas into the tent.

As soon as the flap falls closed behind them, Thomas pulls him into a kiss, raw with need.

“Hnnmg,” says Silver as Thomas licks into his mouth. He takes a moment to adjust, his eyes darting around the space to make sure they’re alone. Then he returns the kiss just as fervently, cradling the back of Thomas’ neck as he leans up. His heart is racing, and all around them the fair goes on, only separated from them by a thin piece of cloth.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for at least an hour,” Thomas confesses without really breaking away from him. He brushes the hair out of Silver’s face, covering his cheekbones and jawline with kisses. His eyes are dark when he pulls back. Color blooms in his cheeks, and his lips are wet and red. “The way you handled George Preston… That was truly something else.”

Silver feels off-balance in a way that has little to do with his leg, arousal sparking through his gut. Thomas knows what it does to him when he looks at him like that, kisses him like that.

“Shit, and it couldn’t wait until we’re home?” He moves forward until he’s got Thomas backed against a dresser in the corner. It’s a sturdy looking thing with an ornate mirror attached, a solid piece of craftsmanship. Thomas bumps into it with a small thud.

“No, I’m afraid it couldn’t,” Thomas says, pulling him in. His body is warm against Silver’s as they slot together, hip to thigh. The hard line of his arousal presses into Silver’s stomach with every breath he takes. “I hate not being able to touch you when you are so… ”

Their mouths meet again, hungrier this time, and desire burns through Silver. He maneuvers his good leg between Thomas’ thighs and leans up to kiss him again. When he ruts into the contact, the friction is delicious, the long line of Thomas’ body against his, his fingers trailing down his sides.

And yet.

“Someone’s going to walk in on us,” Silver hisses. He can’t believe he has to be the voice of reason here. “Do you have any idea what’s going to happen then?”

“No matter.” Thomas scatters kisses across his temple, following his hairline. “Let them. I’ve seen what you can do— If anything happens, we’ll talk our way out of it.”

“That’s a—” Thomas nips at his earlobe. “— an incredibly bad idea,” Silver finishes his sentence with a gasp.

There are hands on his buttocks now, and he arches into the touch, seeking pressure. No, no, he needs to keep a clear head. When Thomas gets like this—and this is something Silver has learned—it’s best to be strict with him.

“Thomas. No. Do you hear me?”

When nothing happens he repeats Thomas’ name, dangerously low. His pirate voice. At that, a shudder runs through the other man, and Silver realizes that, if anything, using that voice has made Thomas more eager, not less. But—

“All right, all right,” Thomas says, letting go of his arse. Silver thinks the battle is won, but then Thomas adds, “We just have to make sure no one can walk in on us!”

He grabs Silver again, turning them around so that Silver is the one against the dresser.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Silver mumbles under his breath.

“Stay there.”

Thomas has already crossed over to the opening in the tent. He deftly ties the ribbon fastening the flap and scans the space. Lugging a small but heavy-looking chest over, he traps the cloth of the flap under it, sealing the entrance.

“There.” Thomas is back, standing before him like a question posed and not yet answered. And Silver, well, Silver has stayed where he is, hasn’t he?

“Thomas …” he trails off. The look of affection in the other man’s eyes is doing funny things to his insides. Silver wants him more than anything, and at the same time he’s not sure he wants to be wanting like this, so hard it almost hurts.

“Mmmmh?” Thomas takes hold of his wrist, rubbing his pulse point. His eyes roam across Silver’s face, earnest. “If you don’t want this, I will stop,” he whispers. “But I want it. I want _you_.”

Silver tells himself that the rush of warmth he feels at that is only because he can never say no to an opportunity. And this opportunity is safe now, or as safe as it can ever be. Thomas looks at him as if he’s the most valuable thing in the world, as if he’d never put Silver in harm’s way. To be wanted like this— his stomach flips.

He grabs Thomas by the collar of his shirt, and their mouths crash into each other again. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, let’s be quick.”

Thomas nods, hands already at Silver’s breeches. It doesn’t take long at all until they’ve freed each other, Silver moving his crutch to the side and bracing himself against the dresser. He sighs at Thomas’ first touch, his senses sharp and overwhelming. Voices pass by outside, just on the other side of the cloth, footsteps crunching on the ground. They come closer and fade away again, every new approach sending a spike of alarm through his body. All the while Thomas’ length is silky and hot in his hand, his breath warm against his temple. Animalistic need begins to coil deep in his belly. His own breath is coming faster.

Thomas moves in closer, bending his knees to press their cocks together and wrapping his hand around them both. He has become quiet, focused.

Then he slows, tugging at Silver’s opened breeches. His voice is a mere shiver against Silver’s ear.

“Please, I want to feel you.”

“You _are_ feeling me,” Silver points out, surfacing from his pool of arousal.

Impossibly, Thomas’ voice becomes even softer. “I want to be inside you.”

“Fuck. Yes.” Silver swears colorfully, looking around. Then he pushes his breeches down and lifts himself up onto the dresser. “Will this work?”

Thomas considers him and hums his approval. With great care, he slides the fabric of Silver’s breeches over his stump. Once that’s done, the garment pools easily at their feet—Silver doesn’t even need to take off his boot.

“Did you see any slick, or oil?” he asks. He may be getting more regular practice these days, but spit alone isn’t going to cut it—not if they have to be quiet.

Dutifully, Thomas rummages through various drawers and comes up with a small vial. “This will do.”

“Do I even want to know what that is?” Silver looks skeptical.

“Best not.” Thomas smirks. “Now tilt your hips for me, little darling.”

“Call me that again, and I’ll gut you. But really, you should fuck me first.” Silver shifts on the dresser, and Thomas settles between his legs, lifting his bad knee for better access. His fingertips, now wet with slick, brush over Silver’s entrance, pricking up goosebumps all over his body.

Thomas prepares him quickly and efficiently, scissoring his long fingers just enough to get him ready. Then the heavy tip of his cock presses against him. Silver bites his lip, looking up, and Thomas waits until he nods.

The first push inside is sweetest torture, overpowering everything else and reducing Silver’s awareness to a single point of contact. The slow drag of Thomas’ cock sends jolts of pleasure through him, and he holds on as best as he can, but he can already feel himself disintegrate.

“Shhhh, quiet now,” Thomas whispers, hitching his leg up higher, pressing deeper.

Silver opens his mouth to tell him exactly what he thinks of that—but just then Thomas pulls back and snaps his hips, and Silver yelps. They both freeze instantly, hearts hammering in their chests.

“What did I just say?” Thomas mouths at him, but seeming mostly amused. Silver gives an expressive nod to where their bodies are joined and shakes his head in an exasperated way. They listen closely for a moment or two, but nothing happens. 

After sharing another meaningful look, Thomas decides to clasp one hand over Silver’s mouth, fucking into him again slow and deep. Silver feels as if he’s floating. At the same time, he’s drawn taut like the string on a bow, quivering with anticipation. Time bends to the steady beat of Thomas’ thrusts, his breaths, his reassuring hands on Silver’s body. The noise of the fair seems far away, or underwater, drowned out by the movements of their bodies, so much more immediate, and the scent of sweat and sex, up close, intimate. Above all, there’s the intense feeling of being filled until he’s fit to burst, pushed on irrevocably towards some final end.

Silver needs more, but his hands are busy keeping him balanced. The position was always precarious in that way, and so he wriggles against Thomas, who releases him.

Silver slides off the dresser and turns around, and—oh shit, he forgot about the mirror. He sees Thomas’ rumpled clothing, his appreciative gaze skimming over Silver’s backside before their eyes meet. Silver braces himself against the dresser. With only one leg, his balance is shaky, but Thomas steadies him, the way he always does.

“Like this?” Thomas asks hoarsely, and Silver can only nod. He squirms under Thomas’ touch, trying to push back onto his cock. He needs for them to continue, and do it quickly—this way it’s even more compromising, should they be discovered.

With one hand at Silver’s hip, Thomas drags his cock along his cleft. Even though Silver knows what to expect, it’s still a shock when Thomas enters him again from behind. He moves his hips in slow, measured thrusts, hitting that sensitive spot inside him, and Silver wants to cry at how good it is. But he forces himself to be quiet, to be good, to be deserving of such intense pleasure. And he is, he does deserve it.

Thomas leans forward, mumbling praise into his ear. Soft words about how good he feels, how much he’s wanted him all day. They’re getting careless now, but seeing Thomas in the mirror, and knowing himself seen in turn—it’s almost too much. Silver is already close when Thomas wraps a hand around his cock, groaning under his breath. His head sinks down between his shoulders, and he is swallowed up by twin pleasures closing in on him, but Thomas isn’t having any of it.

“Look at yourself,” he says softly. “I want you to see what I see. Can you do that for me?”

And Silver does so. He sees his own mouth breathless, his nostrils flared, his eyes wide. The bead of sweat at his temple, and more beauty than he knew to expect. He comes with a great shudder, his body tensing and clenching around Thomas, eyes finally squeezing shut, and he doesn’t know why there is wetness streaming down his cheeks all of a sudden, but his knee buckles, and he is still coming.

The only things keeping him upright for a moment are Thomas’ arms around him and his cock deep inside, moving softly while Silver comes down from his orgasm. He is shaking and breathing heavily, but Thomas is holding him close and making soothing sounds, he’s got him, he’s safe.

“Go on,” Silver says when he feels— not ready as such, but less prone to falling apart. Thomas is still hard and urgent inside him; he hasn’t come yet.

Silver watches through the mirror as Thomas nods and begins to roll his hips again. His hair is tousled and his jaw slack, but when he looks up a smile curls around his lips. His pace quickens, bordering on punishing. Then he pulls out. Silver still feels hazy enough that he doesn’t really understand at first.

“No, stay, stay.” Thomas grabs hold of Silver’s arse with one hand, the other on his cock, and finally Silver understands. He rucks his shirt up to get it out of the way.

Just then Thomas’ breath falters, and his hand speeds up and twists. He gives a small gasp before his orgasm rips through him, spilling over Silver’s backside and the small of his back. Silver feels the warmth trickle down his cleft and over his entrance. It’s messy, but not as messy as it would have been otherwise, Thomas’ release seeping out of him uncomfortably on the walk home.

Thomas laughs as he comes to again, heady with relief as the reality of the situation washes over him. Silver grins, watching him in the mirror. They exchange looks of appreciation tinged with quiet disbelief as they realize what they’ve done.

A few minutes later they are cleaned up and dressed again, the color in their cheeks the only thing to betray their recent exertions—and even that can be blamed on the high spirits of the day. It’s gotten quieter around the tent, music wafting over across the square. Everyone seems to have gathered there, and when they step outside, they are greeted only by the golden rays of the sun, now a good deal lower in the sky.

They’ll need to get going if they want to be home before dark, as they’ve promised James.

“Are you hungry?” Silver asks. “I feel like I could eat a horse.”

Thomas hums in agreement, a hand brushing over Silver’s shoulder absent-mindedly before he remembers himself, not wanting to give up on touch.

Later, they’ll sit in the kitchen with James, and tell him all about what happened after he left. But for now, there’s only this: the setting sun and the leisurely walk home, and a feeling of lightness as they slip back into their public personas, the lives they’ve built for themselves here.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost titled this "the mortifying ordeal of being known" lmao
> 
> let me know what you think, either here or [on tumblr](https://riotsofbloom.tumblr.com/). I'm always happy to talk about these boys!


End file.
